


The Good in Goodbye

by grawlix



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Nonfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:08:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grawlix/pseuds/grawlix





	The Good in Goodbye

I heard of Douglas before I met him. The girls in the labs were a twitter about our professor's new graduate assistant so naturally, to substantiate their analysis only, I had to see for myself. My reconnaissance mission did find a tall broad-shouldered and exceedingly handsome man with some terrific arms. He had the added bonus of a smooth, melodic British accent and a dry languid wit that made everything he said sound so interesting and nice. My report back to the girls was that yes, the new guy was intelligent, beautiful, looked just like some classical Greek sculpture, and thus I wholeheartedly agreed he was an excellent eye candy addition to the classroom. I am not sure who, in taking the sculpture analysis one step further, came up with the nickname "Greek God", but I ran with it and the nickname "GeeGee" became my nickname for Douglas for many years. His attempts to decipher what it meant became so self-debasing (Grotesque Gargoyle, etc) that I finally had to admit what his nickname stood for just to stop his delusion that it meant something terrible about him. His response was simply "Oh?" Not an "of course" kind of "oh" with that mix of satisfaction beautiful people get because they are so used to being admired, rather, more like a "Where is the hidden camera? Where is Alan Funt?" kind of "oh", like it was impossible from him to believe he would ever been given such a nickname. I had to scribble down "humble" along with his other attributes.

Douglas was more than looks, he was a good friend. In my presence he was playful, lighthearted and on my side on all of my endeavors or complications with others. He was always ready to slice down my perceived enemies (I still often say aloud "slimy profiteering bastards!" complete with his crisp accent when I feel I need some invisible backup) and thoughtful and encouraging when I needed it. How come he was such a cheerleader for me but not himself? I don't know. Yet I can't remember any hint of coldness or contempt in him, only unmitigated kindness towards me. I have many fond memories and I will hold on to them fiercely knowing they are my last with him. I will protect my little pockets of this happy friendship and press them between the leaves of a book, lay it away, put it high up there so I can take it out and look over it when I need that loyal bolstering support of his again. I'm going to remember it this way. Douglas, I'm going to remember you this way.


End file.
